


i'll be good (love the world like i should)

by lezzylittle



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Claustrophobia, Gen, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25964125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lezzylittle/pseuds/lezzylittle
Summary: stay in the closet. it's safer.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	i'll be good (love the world like i should)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anandrew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anandrew/gifts).



“you can stay in here until you can learn to keep your thoughts to yourself!”

he is shoved through the door, tears streaming down his face as he hears it lock. the closet is dark, small, and cramped; when he stretches his arms out to his sides, his hands lay flat on the walls.

“let me out!” he cries, turning to pound on the door. “i’ll be good, i promise! i’ll stop talking, i’ll stop thinking!” hands beat against the wood of the door, and he drags his nails down, not caring about the splinters being pushed into his skin. “please!!”

no one answers. either they don’t hear him, or, and this thought stuck to his brain like a fly to flypaper, they didn’t care. they didn’t care, and they were just going to leave him in here forever. he batters his tiny fists against the wood of the door, choking back desperate sobs.

“i’m sorry,” he manages between suffocating breaths, “i’m sorry, let me out!” he can almost make out speaking, when his sobs aren’t filling his ears. who’s talking? “deedee, i’m sorry!”

there is a moment, when the speaking stops, when his tears only come harder, when he drops to his knees in defeat. he’s going to be stuck there for the rest of his life.

he curls up, wraps his arms around himself as if he can hold himself together. remus can’t stop crying, can’t stop picturing the walls closing in on him, can’t stop his mind from coming up with him rotting in the closet, dying of starvation, of dehydration from crying, wasting away and fading and no one will come looking for you, remus-

the door opens.

he doesn’t hesitate, only launches himself at whoever freed him from his prison. there is a hesitant pat on his shoulder as he hugs his savior tightly. remus can tell from that alone that it’s deedee, he’s never been one for physical affection.

“thank you, thank you, dee, thank you-” he’s getting tears on the other side’s clothes, and he knows that’s not good. “i’ll do better, i’ll be better.”

“yes, well.” gloved hands carefully push the duke off of him, another set of arms appearing with tissues to wipe the tears away. “see that you do.”

“i promise, deedee—“ he sobs again. “don’t lock me back up—“


End file.
